Consolation

Sometimes when I cry the night sky is my only consolation.
Cause I know somewhere out there someone regards the same constellation as their salvation.
Oh what will we do to save our nation?
Lock and load.
Losing control.
I'm doomed. I got blood on my soul.
Body parts in the streets.
Kid stepped on a land mine. Now he's got no toes for his cleats.
Nowadays he's inclined to let his fingers dance anyways.
Across the piano.
Across the page.
And if you find him the right time and place.
He might write a poem with a funny look on his face.
And it would go something like this.
I see that girl, her face I want to kiss.
I found a memory, I clench it in my fist.
I see the ball players, and it's my legs I miss.
And he'll crumple it into my hand and wheel himself away.
My crocodile tears seem silly now.
All my past trials and tribulations can be summed up to an ego game.
And self-shame.
I was always my worst friend.
So sometimes when I cry I view the constellation as my salvation.
Cause my eyes saw the world like you did.
And my heart pumped the same blood that you did.
And we're both thinking of how tomorrow's a new day.
Like you did.

Connect the world.
Connect the minds.
Pass the pipe.
And write your ass off about the world around you.
Cause once i'm gone it'll be my words that linger.
For future kin to avoid the bloodshed.
One.